Now I think I have not felt as good this time round with the chemo. Others disagree. You decide when reading this. But I don’t. I think my emotional well being has contributed badly to my physical well being. I haven’t felt much more in the way of nausea and pain – it’s not that. My mind hasn’t been as strong as it felt last cycle – hence my lack of resilience and dare I say, acceptance. The high standards set by me will need work. If anything was going to slow me down it would be chemotherapy.
Between you and I, I am finding this inner turmoil very very hard.
Which is why this ‘fabulous weekend’ was planned. My best English to Welsh best friend and her lovely husband came to see us. She not only brought Champagne, and her warm smile, but she brought more cancer fighting information to share. CBD oil being part of this dialogue. Lots to consider.
We sat in a pub beer garden – safely out the way from others, PPE’d up – and we walked the mile home afterwards. My first meal out since COVID. It was just so lovely to be with our close friends. I felt very lucky and grateful. The conversation was not about me and my cancer – it was just how we would be normally. THAT made the difference.
I am almost as cycle#3, feeling well, and I live in an area where COVID 19 was very limited. Many chemo patients are very strict and would not go out or be with other people. I respect that. But as I remind you, each experience is very unique. I would not tell anyone what I think they should do when receiving treatment. I’ll tell you what I do and how I chose to travel this path and how I found it to be. I’ll also tell you if I got that wrong!
After the 20 minute walk home a further 7 hours lay ahead of us. We went in the hot tub, chatted, drank champagne, sang and danced our way to 03:45 am. I didn’t want to go to bed ‘Let’s stay up and watch the sunrise’, fell on deaf and tired ears. I drank so much water in between the alcohol, and now have to add plenty of soda to the wine – I’m guessing that’s why I was the one raring to carry on! But, my friend is a machine – she is amazing and can sing and dance herself alive in a second….quite brilliant to watch!
Wigs and hot tubs don’t go together. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t slightly anxious about their responses about seeing me bald. But, as the bikini went on, the hair came off – TAH DAH!!
If they looked shocked they didn’t show it at all. It is shocking to see me with no hair. It was my pride and joy and I loved it. I’m used to it now, and my kids think ‘I rock the bald’. I run hairless and I walk around my village and the fields near me hairless.
The wig is a disguise. If you see me with my hair on – I don’t look like I have cancer. Without it I have cancer. It’s what you see without me opening my mouth. I was ‘me’ again this Friday night – hair or no hair, so thank you both for giving my husband and I a break from the cancer chatter and chemo dread that sits in the air for a few days before each treatment.
Saturday was spent ‘hairless’ in ‘lounge wear’ lying on the sofa watching Netflix. Started watching Homeland (as recommended during last night’s conversation), and for the first time since chemo started, I felt no guilt whatsoever at lying there and doing nothing. We binged on TV and cheese and biscuits. The weather had winter written all though it – so we also got permission from Mother Nature to do nothing and enjoy!
First family meal out on Sunday. We walked to our local pub – very COVID secure – and the five of us ate in the fresh air, with the warm sun massaging our backs and faces. I felt very relaxed and carefully sat with each minute and let it lap me up. Even the ones where the three teenagers I borne, could not help themselves, and would not shut up and continued the ‘banter’. They spark each other up. It’s like watching a flame run through a line of petrol – you know how it will end up. One almighty BOOM and then it gets nasty and the meal ruined. Not quite like that tonight, but all three of them had the can of petrol and a light in their hands.
If you have had chemo, you’ll get what I am about to say. When the days fall away and you head towards your next treatment, every moment and how you spend it intensifies. It’s a strong focus for me. I know my hours are passing until I feel rough again. And this cycle has taught me that you never really know how long you are going to feel sickly and fatigued. I would give a soft organ right now to have a crystal chemo ball to see how I’m going to feel and react. I have a positive outlook with my diagnosis but this has been challenged greatly over the last few weeks.
So, tonight really mattered to me. The evening was finished off with me sat in the garden until late with my weak wine listening to birdsong and the nature natter that fills the space the birds have left blank. GLORIOUS. Simple stuff that mesmerizes my senses and despite the low mood of recent, I feel a deep glow inside of me that reminds me I can do this. Life is still all around me and I could make more of it than I am doing maybe.